


Black Holes & Revelations

by an_aphorism



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 01:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12570732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_aphorism/pseuds/an_aphorism
Summary: After all is said and done for the night, they go back to the cabin.Beside him in the passenger’s seat El is fast asleep, folded up against the door. She’s still wearing the black jacket, but the makeup is smeared around her eyes and it makes her look so young. It reminds Hopper of that first day in the woods, dirty and disheveled as she stood on the hill regarding him.





	Black Holes & Revelations

After all is said and done for the night, they go back to the cabin.

It’s late, or early depending on how you look at it. Hopper parks the blazer and kills the engine. The dark presses in, and after everything that’s happened, it’s a little unsettling.

Beside him in the passenger’s seat El is fast asleep, folded up against the door. She’s still wearing the black jacket, but the makeup is smeared around her eyes and it makes her look so young. It reminds Hopper of that first day in the woods, dirty and disheveled as she stood on the hill regarding him.

Deciding whether or not he was trustworthy.

He reaches over and gently nudges her shoulder. “Hey kid.” She mumbles a little but doesn’t wake. “C’mon we’re home, you can’t sleep in the car.”

El makes a sound of dissent and curls further into the door. Hopper gives a long-suffering sigh. She deserves rest, it’s been a hell of a day, but he’s not about to let this poor girl sleep in a car.

Hopper debates it for a moment and then pockets the keys and gets out.

Around the other side of the car El works with him just enough to ease her weight off the door as he slowly opens it. If her eyes flutter a little, and her sleep breathing becomes a little too measured, Hopper pretends not to notice.

She’s so small it takes nothing to scoop her up bridal style and elbow the car door shut. El makes another sleep sound and tucks her face into his chest, one of her hands curling into his jacket.

He’s glad there’s no one out here in the dwindling dark to see whatever expression is on his face, it’s likely to be disgustingly fond.

The five minute walk to the cabin is brisk and uneventful. He steps over the tripwire without thought, doing his best not to jostle the girl. At the door Hopper finds that Joyce has left it unlocked, so it’s easy to get in while carrying El.

Despite the cabin being used as a hotbox earlier this evening, it’s stone cold now. Hopper moves through the dark, bumping some of the moved furniture, before finding the couch. He leans down to deposit El, who protests and tries to grab tighter to his jacket.

“Hey, I’ve got to start the fire or we’ll freeze in here kid.”

El doesn’t open her eyes, but her eyelashes flutter again. Hopper tugs the blanket off the back of the couch and tucks it around her. The pillow he adjusts to support her head.

That settled he goes back to the door, sliding all the locks into place before attending the fireplace.

The coals are still warm in the bottom, so it doesn’t take much to restart the fire. When it stabilizes Hopper scoots the cot out away from the fireplace, and moves the space heaters out of the walking space.

The cabin begins to warm incrementally.

He steps away from the glow, pressing his hands into his eyes. They burn with lack of sleep, but he still feels the gallop of adrenaline in his system. His body feels primed for another attack, on edge in the bad way now that the danger has passed.

He pats his pockets but comes up short on cigarettes.

In the kitchen he grabs a beer from the frig, and sits himself down at the kitchen table. It’s been days since they’ve sat here and had a meal, but it feels like a lifetime ago. There’s blood under his nails, dirt and viscera staining his jacket. God only knows how he smells.

He sips the beer, and when the room is warm enough, he unzips the jacket, unlaces his shoes, and drops both on the floor. It’s better, but not best. There’s not enough soap and hot water to clean off what he’s been through.

And the kid…

His eyes drift back to her. She’s still sleeping peacefully, her hands tucked up near her chin. He remembers the feeling of her hand in his, so small and yet clasping him tight against the gate of hell itself.

It makes his palms itch, the heavy crush of her trust, the fear of all that potential loss. It’s a loss he knows too intimate already. And with El now, he can’t— he can’t—

He swallows beer, watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing in the firelight. How close they both came to death tonight. He can smell it all around them, like the demodogs are still just out there beyond the light.

Hopper loses track after that. He watches El and the fire alternatively, making his way through a beer and then another. It does little to settle the fear in his chest, but it does seem to relax the tight muscles of his neck and shoulders.

He should probably go to his room and at least lie down. Anything but sit here and drink.

“Sleep?”

It’s a croaky sound from El that pulls him back to himself.

“What?”

Her eyes are open now, doe-wide and dark in the lighting. There’s still a smear of blood beneath her nose that no one thought to take care of.  “You sleep?”

“Yeah, I’m going now. To sleep.” He stands, gesturing stupidly to his room. He’s not anywhere near drunk, but the room seems to spin a little.

“Stay?” El pushes herself up to a seated position, tugging the blanket up around her.

“You want me to stay?”

She nods and tilts her head to the empty space on the couch.

And after all that business of single-handedly closing a portal to another world, how can he deny her anything? He leaves the beer and shuffles over to the couch. “Okay,” he says as he takes the seat. “But we should both try to sleep, and this couch it not nearly enough room.”

The kid doesn’t say anything, but scoots over to press up against his side. The blanket she unwraps and offers half to him before snuggling right up to his side and leaning her head against his arm. She’s a little too short to reach his shoulder, so Hopper moves his arm to the back of the couch. It opens a space for El to tuck into, her head against his chest.

It reminds him of Sara.

The thought comes both sour and sweet. El is not Sara, but the feeling of her pressed up against him is a close-cousin to those old memories. His eyes burn hot with the missing of something that can never be.

And yet, here in the cabin, something in his chest is slowly being filled. It seems like it should be impossible, that if you had told him a year ago that this sliver of a girl would be terrorizing and charming him, he never would have believed it.

But here they are. He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You okay kid?”

There’s a quiet moment where it’s just the fire crackling and then, “Okay.”

They stay that way for a long time, wrapped up in the warmth diffusing the cabin. Hopper feels himself begin to settle, his limbs getting heavy and eyes tired. Over her head he stifles a yawn. “We should go to bed.”

El shakes her head, pressing her face into his shirt with a sound of disagreement.

“It’s way after your bedtime.”

This gets a snort from her. “No.”

A grin sneaks up on him. “Oh yeah, definitely past bedtime.”

There’s a long whuff of hot air against his shirt. “Don’t want to… alone.”

Hoppers rolls this around in his head, fluent now in El’s short, staccato communication. “You don’t want to be alone. Yeah, I can understand that. Okay.”

There’s no good solution to this. He doesn’t want to try and sleep propped up on this couch, but he also doesn’t want to send El to her room if she doesn’t want to be alone.

El is not likely to understand that sharing a bed is not a thing done by men and children. He cringes at the idea of trying to explain the implications of that.

His eyes drift up and he catches sight of the cot. The lightbulb in his head goes on.

“Oh, I’ve got it. Let me up for a minute.” Hopper waits for El to shift back before he extricates himself from the blanket.

It’s easy then to move the coffee table out of the way and drag the cot over beside the couch. It already has a pillow, so Hopper goes to the linen closet and finds a second blanket. He makes up that bed and then smiles at El. “That one’s for you, I’m a little too wide for it.”

She nods and shuffles over to the cot. Hopper steps around the edge of it, throwing himself down on the couch. The blanket is still warm, and he pulls it up over himself. The exhaustion has seeped into his bones now.

He turns his head right and El is there, lying on her left side. She looks tired too, her slicked back hair now beginning to curl again at the ends.

In the space between them she reaches her hand out, palm down.

Hopper moved his hand out from beneath the blanket, palm up. When she puts hers on top of his, he threads their fingers and gives her a squeeze. She returns the squeeze.

They don’t speak, and he doesn’t think they need to. Her eyes are watery and soft, and he’s certain he’s not looking his most stoic.

He imagines a world where they can just stay like this. Where nothing else happens, no more monsters or scientists or teenage boys with their clumsy, painful love. He imagines a cabin that he could barricade well enough to protect her, a place where she could be more than halfway-happy.

It hurts, this blackhole fear. The moment is so delicate here and all the cluttering what-ifs of past and future hurt in a way he can’t put words to.

He squeezes her hand and he hopes she knows. I worry about you, I’m not angry, we’re okay, I love you, I love you, I love you.

She blinks slowly, a tear sliding down her cheek. She squeezes back.

Hopper closes his eyes. The fire is starting to wind down. The dark gains and loses against the light. He is drifting, circling closer and closer to sleep.

Their hands, clasped together, keep them together for this moment.

They sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of feelings about Eleven and Hopper for season 2. I just need an entire season of grumpy dad and tantrum daughter sharing eggos and watching tele. Ow, my heart!


End file.
